Return of the Killer
by Vinividivinci
Summary: Kate has had her resolution - Bracken is behind bars. And finally, after six years, they are together, married and happy. But no one believed that Rick's nemesis was still out there.. Castle had wanted to believe it was over But, Jerry Tyson had returned and he was to find out it was not over - not for him. Beware: lots of angst and definite Castle whump.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Castle or any of the characters from the show. The characters I create are mine, as is the plot - however crazy it might be.**

_**This first chapter is pretty light and fluffy - but the story will soon turn much darker. It will include lots of angst and whump. For those of you who don't know my writing - my stories can contain heavy duty, detailed whump. If you don't like this, please don't read - or at least don't complain, as you've been warned.**_

"Call me", he murmured as he kissed her goodbye. "I wish I could go in with you."

"Mmm, me too", she said softly, slowly trailing her lips down his neck. "But you have to finish that chapter."

"I know." He shivered and thrust his hand in her hair. "But it could wait – a little while."

"No", she let her tongue trail back up, until she reached the roughness of his jaw. "I can't be late my first day back."

"Why not", he asked, unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. "They'd understand."

"No they wouldn't", she answered, tilting her head back to allow him access to the dip between her breasts. "We had three weeks – three glorious weeks – on a tropical island. It's time to go back to work."

"Tell me that's what you want", he told her as he nudged aside her bra, "and I'll let you go."

"_Castle_!"

"Yes Mrs. Castle?" he smirked, letting his tongue glide over the rosy peak of her nipple. "You can't can you?"

She groaned and let him lead her back to bed. What the hell – they weren't going to fire her for being a few minutes late. It wasn't as if she made a habit of it.

* * *

"Hey Beckett!" Ryan called out to her. "Welcome back!"

"Hi Ryan", she grinned. "How's everything going?"

"Fine just fine. How was – uh – your honeymoon?"

"Hey man, you don't ask a lady a question like that!" Javi walked up behind his partner. "Hey Beckett, you're lookin' good."

"Thanks guys. And to answer your question Kevin – my honeymoon was great!"

"I assume that's why you're late Detective?" Captain Gates was standing in the doorway, a frown on her face. "Welcome back but don't think that you can come in anytime you want, just because you're married to some rich author now."

"I don't Sir", she answered, biting her lip, although whether it was because she was nervous, or because she was trying not to smile, well she'd never tell.

"Fine", Gates nodded. "We missed you Kate. You're looking good."

"Feeling good Sir", said the tanned and relaxed looking detective, breaking out in a smile. "And ready to get back to work. And sorry about being late – uh -"

"No need to explain Detective", Gates smirked. "I know what it's like to be a newlywed. Now, get to work."

After the Captain was gone, a rather red-faced Kate turned to her partners. "So – how's everything?"

Both men were looking at her, brows raised and knowing looks on their faces. They didn't say anything – just stared.

"Oh for heaven's sake", she said, sitting down at her desk. "Get your minds out of the gutter."

"Gutter?" Javi turned to his partner. "Hey Bro – my mind isn't in the gutter. Is yours?"

"Nope. Just standing here, minding my own business. Can I help it if Beckett thinks we even _think_ about things like that?"

"Oooh", Esposito wrinkled up his nose. "Us? Think about Castle and – hell no." He grinned. "Welcome back partner."

"Thanks guys", she shook her head, but a small grin appeared on her face. "Miss me?"

"Miss you?" Esposito looked surprised. After a glance at Kevin he turned back. "Hell ya. Things weren't the same without you. So tell me, how was that private island in the Maldives?"

"It was -" she got a faraway look in her eyes. It was only on Ryan's cough that she came back to the present. "Uh – sorry. It was amazing. The most beautiful place you've ever seen."

"You actually _saw_ it?" Javier asked with a smirk.

"So what did you do?" Kevin asked, giving his partner the evil eye.

"Okay, now that's just not cool", his more world-wise partner told him. "First you ask how her honeymoon was and then you ask what they _did_. Man – didn't you just get married a couple of years ago? Don't you remember what _you_ did on your honeymoon?"

"Well of course I do", Ryan said with a roll of his eyes. "But that's not _all_ we did. We did some sightseeing too and swam and – you know, all the stuff you do on vacation."

"Guys – my honeymoon was great. We swam and read and ate and rode around the island. I'll show you some pictures when we have time, okay?"

"_Really_?' Espo asked. "Won't Castle mind."

"Oh for God's sake!" she shook her head. "Do we have a murder? _Please_ tell me we have a murder?"

The rest of the day Kate spent looking over a couple of cases that had occurred while she was gone and that hadn't been solved. The rest of the time was spent fending off the well-meaning teasing of her colleagues. It wasn't just Javier and Kevin – _everyone_ seemed intent on making sly innuendos or sometimes being downright – suggestive – in their comments. Most of them knew they'd been living together before the wedding, but that didn't seem to matter. They were enjoying the teasing way too much. A couple of times she wished Castle were here with her, but she quickly forgot that. It would have been worse if he'd been present.

She wondered suddenly if that was the reason for his sudden need to write. He probably suspected that they'd have to endure all sorts of teasing and that's why he decided not to come to the precinct. Oooh – she'd get him for that.

"Hey, what's up girl? You look like you're about to arrest someone."

"Lanie!" she cried, standing up and hugging her friend. "What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here? I came to see my best friend, who couldn't be bothered to step over to the morgue to see me!"

"Uh – that sounds rather creepy you know", Kate wrinkled her nose. "And I was going to stop in – I've just been dealing with a couple of cases – and everybody harassing me."

"Well of course they're harassing you Kate. We all watched you go through years of avoiding Castle's attempts at seduction and then two years of you dating and being", she shivered, "all cozy with each other. We have a right to tease you now that you're finally married." Lanie looked around and then pulled her friend towards the coffee room. "Okay – spill. I want all the details."

"Of my _honeymoon_?" Kate asked, her brows raised in disbelief.

"Well of _course_ your honeymoon", Lanie said, rolling her eyes. "What else do you think I mean. Was it good? Was he – _romantic_? And tell me, what's it like to have your very own private island for three weeks? Girl, if you weren't my friend I'd slap you silly out of jealousy. I'll be lucky to go to Atlantic City for my honeymoon."

"You're going to have a honeymoon? Don't you need to have a boyfriend, then get engaged and then get married for that?"

"Kate, do _not_ try and change the subject. I want to know what happened down there. Did you walk around naked or were there people around?" She frowned – "or maybe you walked around naked even _with_ people around?"

Kate shook her head and smiled. "You want some coffee?" she walked over to the coffee maker – the one that Rick had purchased – and began to make a cappuccino.

"I want _details_ Kate, details. If you won't tell me I'll have to ask Castle."

Kate laughed. "You think he's going to tell you?"

"Yeah, of course. So _come on_, tell."

Kate sighed and set a cup of coffee in front of her friend and then sat down herself. "There's not a lot to tell. It was gorgeous. We had this tiny tropical island to ourselves – except for the small staff that looked after the place. There was a cook and a lady who cleaned and a guy – I guess you could call him a butler. They were attentive but disappeared when we didn't need them – which was most of the time." She grinned at the memory of their quiet time together. It had been so –

"_KATE_!"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Well, I told you, the place was gorgeous. It was right by the water and had windows on all sides. Most of the time it was warm enough to leave them open and let the ocean breeze just waft over us. There was a swimming pool and a whirlpool, but most of the time we swam in the ocean."

"Bathing suits?"

Kate grinned and shook her head. "Nope."

"_Yes!_", Lanie squealed. "I thought so! So – what else?"

"Well, the food was delicious. There was a chef and he made the most delectable meals – anytime we wanted. We had an amazing stereo system, a movie room, access to the internet – so we could watch whatever we wanted. But mostly we just relaxed and spent time together. It was – nice – not to have any interruptions or anything from the outside world to bother us. We talked and listened to music. I was able to read some novels I've wanted to read for a while."

Lanie raised her eyebrow. "Girl, are you telling me you watched movies and _read books_ on your honeymoon?"

Kate stood up and set her cup in the dirty dish tray. With a smirk she looked at her friend. "Only when we were really - _tired_", she said. With that she turned around and sauntered back to her desk. Lanie laughed, finished her coffee and followed her.

"So – tired?"

"_Very_ tired and very happy."

"Good! That's what a honeymoon should be. Not this reading crap."

Kate laughed again. "You in for a girl's night out?" she asked, knowing they both had to get back to work.

"Of course. What about Castle?"

"Nah, I don't think he would really like a girl's night – at least not with anyone but me."

"That's not what I meant and you know it Kate Beckett. He won't mind you going out?"

"Of course not. He'll probably enjoy a guy's night. He hasn't played poker with his writing buddies for a while. I'll suggest he call them up. It'll be fun."

"Yeah, it will. It's good to see you looking so good Kate. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks Lanie", Kate turned and gave her friend a hug. "I'll show you some pictures of the island", she told her friend.

"You had time to take pictures?"

"Yeah – between – _other _things."

Laughing again, Lanie made her way back to work, more than pleased for her friend.

Castle called once – he told her he was being good to not but her – but texted her countless times during the day. Most of them were funny – or sweet – and made her either laugh or want to hug him. By the end of the day she just wanted to return home. She was becoming a total sap – she missed him after just one day.

* * *

"Hey", he called when she walked in. He quickly moved over to her and gave her a kiss. "I missed you."

"Mmm – me too. I think I want to go back to the island", she told him. She grabbed a hold of his shirt and reached up and kissed him.

"That would be nice – although it might be a tad expensive."

"Was it?" she asked, suddenly serious. She had known it must cost a small fortune, but she hadn't had the courage to ask exactly how much. "Rick, tell me you didn't spend a fortune on our honeymoon."

"Nope, didn't spend a fortune."

"_Rick_", she chided. "The truth. We're married now so you have to tell me."

"Really? I don't remember that from the vows."

"_Rick_!"

"Okay, okay. No, it didn't cost a fortune", he repeated. "In actual fact, I didn't pay much at all – just had to pay for the staff and food and the plane tickets."

"What? How come? Rick, what did you do?" she asked suspiciously.

"Hey – nothing illegal, I promise. The owner of that island is a Middle Eastern prince, who happens to _love_ my books. He invited me to come to his estate in Bahrain for a book reading and we kind of got to know each other. He's always wanted me to write a character after him. When I was thinking about our honeymoon I remembered him mentioning the island – and that he was hardly ever there. I called him up and asked if we could use it. I then happened to mention that I was thinking of using him as the basis for a character in my next Nikki Heat book. The next thing I knew he told me we could use the island, and we only had to pay for staff. So – there."

"Wow! And this character – you're really going to do it?"

"Of course." He suddenly got a devilish grin on his face. "I'm gonna make him the villain."

"Rick! You're not?"

"Yes I am – and he'll love it. He likes to be thought of as a bad boy. I'll just make sure to make him smart and debonair. Villains are almost always more fun to write anyway."

She shook her head and gave him another kiss. "More fun than Nikki?"

"_No _one is more fun than Nikki", he answered, kissing her back.

"Well, I'm at least I'm glad to know you didn't bankrupt yourself for our honeymoon."

"_Ourselves _and nope – not quite, although you _did_ eat a lot."

She swatted him. "For that you get no sex tonight", she told him.

"That's the way to keep him in line", Martha's voice interrupted their teasing as she walked into the room.

Kate could feel herself go red. "Martha – I'm sorry, I didn't know you were home."

"Oh, don't worry about me", the older woman said, heading over and giving Kate a hug. "Welcome home. I hope you had a good trip – although Richard, if your bride of three weeks is already threatening to withhold sex, it wasn't as good as it should have been."

He shook his head in mock disgust and took off his jacket. "Mother – did no one ever teach you how to behave in polite society?"

"Of course they did – and when I'm in polite society I act perfectly respectably. So, was the honeymoon good?"

"It was wonderful", Kate answered. "I was just saying I wished we could have stayed longer."

"Longer than three weeks? My, it _must_ have been a good honeymoon.

"Oh, it was!" her son smirked. He reached over and grabbed his new wife and pulled her to him. "How could it be any different with Kate as my bride?"

Martha sighed and headed towards the stairs. "Well, if you're going to get all mushy now, I'm going to go to my room. And don't get carried away you too. The last thing I want is to walk down and catch you two cavorting." Martha waved her hand at the two love-birds as she tossed her words over her shoulder and headed to her bedroom.

"And I thought it would be okay to have my mother and daughter live with us?" Castle asked gloomily.

"You love them", Kate gave him a peck on the cheek. "Come on, what's for dinner? I'm starving."

"You coming in with me today?" she asked, rolling over and trailing her finger down his bare chest. "I missed you yesterday."

He groaned and grabbed her hand. "I'd love to, but I'm just about finished the next chapter. I tell you what, let me work on it this morning and I'll head over and meet you for lunch."

"Okay", she sighed and pushed herself up. "And no, don't try and detain me. I almost got into trouble for being late yesterday morning and I can't do it two days in a row."

"You did it for way more than that on our honeymoon", he told her suggestively.

She swatted his hand away. "I _meant_ being late. No", she stood up quickly. "As much as I'd like to stay, I really do have to get going." She leaned down and gave him a swift kiss, but stood up again before he could react.

As she headed out of the shower and into their bedroom she saw that Rick was just getting up. "Is your mother around this morning?"

"No – she's spending the day with a couple of old acting friends of hers. She told me she'd be home late."

"Well then, you should get lots written", she told him. "With Alexis gone for the rest of the summer and your mother out, it'll be nice and quiet around here."

"Too quiet", he muttered, sounding aggrieved.

"I thought you _liked_ writing", she laughed.

"I do – it's just – I'd rather be solving murders with you today."

"Well, if I get a new murder I'll call and you can come in, okay?"

"Alright." He accepted a goodbye kiss from her and then headed into the bathroom.

Once showered and changed he had a quick breakfast and made his way into his study. Sighing, he sat down and booted up his computer. He really did love writing, but he had to be in the mood for it and today, well, he just wasn't.

After an hour spent trying to figure out a single scene he finally gave up. Maybe if he went out and got a bit of fresh air it would help. He glanced at his watch and realized it was already ten o'clock. He'd have to head down to the station in a couple of hours to take Beckett out for lunch.

He put his computer in sleep mode, grabbed his keys and made his way to the door. He'd head down the street to the coffee shop and grab himself a drink. He didn't need to – he had a perfectly good machine at home – but he wanted to get out and clear his brain. Maybe walking down the streets of New York would put him back in the mood to write about murder. Right now he still had too much of the tropical island – and Kate - in his mind. His mood was too soft, too gentle to be dreaming up murderers.

He walked slowly down the street, enjoying the warm summer sun. It wasn't as nice as the Maldives, but it was home, and there was something vital about a New York summer. He took a deep breath and wanted to laugh. Yup, he was home.

He was walking past a small alleyway just down from his building – more of a lane than anything – when he heard a faint noise. At first he didn't think anything of it, but when it happened again he turned his head – and almost jumped back in surprise. A man was standing almost directly beside him and it had scared him.

"Sorry", he said quickly. "I didn't see you there. Daydreaming I guess."

The man laugh and a weird sense of foreboding came over him. Figuring it was just his overactive imagination, he smiled. "Uh – have a nice day." He took a step forward when the man's hand shot out and gently took his arm.

"No Richard, don't leave."

This time he felt an actual shiver of fear streak up his spine. He recognized that voice, although he couldn't quite place it. But when he looked he was sure he didn't recognize the face. "What do you want? Who _are_ you?" he asked, pulling his arm away. He tried to take another step, glancing around to see if anyone was near. For once the street was empty of people.

"Why Richard, I'm devastated. I was sure you'd remember me." Barely moving, he man reached into his pocket and took out a pistol. "Why don't you come with me and we can get reacquainted", he said softly.

"It's you, isn't it?" Castle whispered, suddenly figuring it out. "I knew you didn't die."

The man laughed. "You _are_ smarter than you look. Of course I didn't die. I just wanted to – disappear. I had the whole thing planned."

"If you'd wanted to disappeaer, why are you back? Why are you letting me know you're alive?"

"Because you and I have some unfinished business. I've been watching you since before your wedding but this was the first chance I've had to find you alone. It's not that I wouldn't welcome that beautiful bride of yours, but for now it's just you I want. Enough already – I told you to come with me." He gestured with his gun.

"I'm not going with you. Do you think I'm insane?" Rick took a step away, flinching when he saw the gun move. He could easily get shot, although he suspected that the man wouldn't chance shooting him here, now where someone could happen along at any moment. However, if he was stupid enough to follow him then he was pretty sure he wouldn't live long.

"So suspicious." The man shook his head. "Well then, I'm afraid I have no choice." He lifted the gun and pointed it directly at Castle's chest. With a small laugh, he squeezed the trigger.

Rick watched as the gun rose, and wondered briefly if this was it. Was he about to die? He watched as Tyson – it could only be him, even if his face was different – pulled the trigger. He heard a noise, although it wasn't as loud as he had suspected, and felt a burning pain in his chest.

Damn it. He'd just gotten married. This was so unfair. As he fell lifelessly to the ground, his last thought was of Kate and Alexis and his Mother. God – he was so sorry.

Jerry Tyson looked down at him and smiled. With a glance around, he pocketed the gun and reached down to pull Castle into the shadow of the alley. The fun was just beginning.


	2. All Tied Up

_**Warning: the succeeding chapters will contain lots of graphic whump and agnst. **_** If you don't care for this then I suggest not reading. If you like it then ****PLEASE **review. Reviews really do motivate me to write more quickly. _**Thank you**_

Things suddenly got busy in the precinct and it wasn't until they'd finished processing the suspect in the recent murder of a local gang leader that Beckett had a chance to look at her watch. She frowned when she saw it was almost 1:30. Where was Rick? She pulled out her phone and checked for messages. Nothing. She quickly dialed his home number, but when that went to voice mail she called his cell. After five rings his recorded message came on.

What was going on? Where was he? "Esposito?" She suddenly spied the detective approach his desk. "Have you seen Castle?"

"No." He frowned and looked around. "Was he here?"

"He was supposed to meet me for lunch but he didn't show up and I can't reach him either at home or on his cell."

"Did you try texting him? Maybe he's somewhere where there's lousing phone reception."

"I'll try", she nodded and pulled out her phone again. "_Castle, where R U?" _There was no answer for a few minutes but finally her phone sounded. A message had come in.

"_Sorry. Ran into old friend. Home late._ Luv U."

"That him?" Espo asked.

"Yeah", she answered, still frowning. She should feel relieved but it wasn't like Rick to stand her up with no other explanation. "He says he met a friend but -"

"But what?"

"He doesn't – he would have called or something. I think there's something wrong."

"Isn't that a bit paranoid?"

"What's paranoid?" Kevin approached silently behind his partner.

"Beckett. Castle told her he met a friend so he's not coming for lunch. She thinks something's wrong."

Kevin suddenly grew worried. "That doesn't sound like him", he agreed with Beckett. "Who's the friend?"

"He didn't say – he just texted and said he met a friend and would be home late. I don't like this."

"So, what you plannin' to do, put out an APB on the guy cause he wants to spend time with a friend?" Javier looked at Kate as if she were crazy. "I assume Castle does have a life that's not all about followin' you around?"

Kate didn't answer, but continued to stare down at her phone. _Was_ she being paranoid? Had she turned into some kind of clingy wife who couldn't bear to let her husband out of her sight? No, of course she wasn't. If Castle had told her he was meeting up with a friend today, she wouldn't have thought anything of it. In fact, she'd been planning to suggest he get together with some of his buddies. No, it wasn't that – so _why_ was she so nervous?

"Go home Kate", Ryan told her gently. "Just check your place. Call a few of his friends if you need to. You're still a newlywed so no one will think anything of it."

After a second she nodded. "Thanks Ryan, I think I'll do that. Cover for me with Gates, will you guys?"

"Don't we always", Javier smirked. As much as he thought this was unnecessary, he's always support his partners.

Kate arrived home a few minutes later and immediately checked the loft. Everything looked fine. There was nothing out of place – no indication that anything bad had happened. It was only when she went into his office that she noticed the light on his computer. With a frown she went over to it and hit a key – it immediately sprang to life, the password box popping up. Without a thought she typed it in – _ZombieKate_ – she laughed slightly at that, remembering he zombie murder and how it had been the beginning of, not exactly their _relationship_ – but the first time she'd given Castle a clear sign she was ready for _them_.

The screen went immediately to a word document already started and it only took a second for Kate to recognize it as a chapter in his latest Nikki Heat series. She glared at the paragraphs, a funny feeling in her stomach. Rick might put the computer on sleep if he was stepping away from it for a few minutes, but she never remembered him not signing out and powering down if he was going to be out for any length of time. If a friend had called he would have closed things before leaving.

Okay, you really _are_ being paranoid, she said to herself. This didn't prove anything and even Esposito and Ryan would point out that it was a simple thing that anyone could forget. The fact that his computer was on didn't prove that something had happened to him – except she had a terrible gut feeling that it _did_. And she'd been a detective long enough to know not to ignore her it.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned it on. She typed in another message. _Rick, where R U? Am finished work. Will meet U._ She hit send and then waited.

This time there was only a slight delay and a message popped up. She stared at it, frozen, and then slowly sank back down in Rick's chair.

_Sorry. Castle can't come out and play. He's with me now and we're gonna have some fun. JT_

* * *

Castle's first thought was that Kate had stolen the blankets again. He was _freezing_. His next thought was that their bed seemed much harder than normal. And his final thought? That he felt like hell.

He groaned and tried to roll over, but somehow that didn't work too well. What the hell was wrong with him? He stopped for a moment, trying to gather together thoughts that seemed to be flying all over the place with no cohesion. Nothing was making sense.

He forced himself to concentrate, to become aware of his surroundings. It was very obvious that he _wasn't_ in bed. In fact, it felt like he was lying on solid, although slightly rough, concrete. It was even colder than he had first thought. Of course as soon as he realized that he started to shiver. It was then that he discovered he wasn't wearing any clothes.

_What the hell_? His eyes popped open to see – nothing. It was pitch black, at least he hoped it was, otherwise he'd gone blind. He had a moment's panic at that thought but after blinking a couple of times decided that his eyes _seemed_ fine – so it must simply be that he was somewhere without windows.

But _where_ and why? "Better find out", he murmured. He attempted to move and immediately heard a weird clanging sound. At the same moment he realized that his arms and legs were _restrained_? In fact, he was lying spread eagled on the ground, his arms over his head, his feet spread apart, wearing manacles on wrists and ankles that were chained to something. And the chains were fastened so tightly he could barely move more than a few inches. His heart immediately sped up, panic setting in.

"Okay, this isn't good", he muttered, trying to force himself to be calm and to _think_. "Beckett?" he whispered. There was no answer so he tried again. "**Beckett**_**?" **_Still no answer. **"**_**BECKETT**_!" When there continued to be no answer he didn't know whether to be mostly relieved she wasn't here, or upset she wasn't here. He didn't want her in danger, but he also knew that having her with him usually meant they would get away from whatever danger they were in. Alright – so he was alone. Then it's time to figure this out by yourself.

What was the last thing he remembered? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Calm._ He forced himself to listen to his frantically beating heart and try to get it to slow – down – slow … Once he no longer felt like his chest was going to explode, he brought his mind back to what could have happened.

He remembered typing – writing, he was writing a chapter! He talked to Beckett and told her – what? What did he say to her? He took a few more breaths and tried to relax. Finally – lunch! That was it, he was going to take her to lunch. But if that was the case, what the hell was he doing here? This sure wasn't any restaurant he would pick. Now Esposito and Ryan might choose – he laughed, although it quickly died when he realized that nothing about this situation was remotely funny.

Okay – so he was going for lunch and then – what? He'd fallen into a black hole and had his arms and legs chained up? This whole thing made absolutely no – he stopped. Or at least his thoughts and his breathing stopped. Everything suddenly righted itself and he remembered. Holy crap – he remembered.

Jerry Tyson! The man was back and had kidnapped him. He felt a wave of despair practically submerge him. He was going to die. The only reason Jerry would want him was to kill him – and knowing the killer he'd do it in the most gruesome and horrible way possible.

He began to breathe faster and within seconds was hyperventilating. He was also shaking uncontrollably, from a combination of cold and fear. It was only when he felt, and tasted a tear as it fell into his mouth that he was able to bring himself back. "Calm down", he whispered to himself again, his voice as shaky as the rest of him. This was getting him nowhere. He had to stop and figure everything out and he had to remember that Beckett would find him. Of course she would. Kate – his Kate – would never let anything hurt him.

He eventually got himself to the point where he was able to think again. The panic and fear were still there, but carefully controlled. He didn't know how long it would last, but for now it was all he needed.

"Okay Richard", he murmured to himself. "Let's figure this out." He slowly turned his head and almost allowed himself to go into panic mode again when he realized he still couldn't see. "Alright then – check things out with your other senses. You can do this!"

He was lying spread-eagled on a cement floor, arms and legs chained, in some kind of room or basement. He was also naked and freezing cold! That stopped him for a moment while he did a careful inventory. Yes, his feet were bare as were his legs – he could feel the concrete. He frowned slightly as his concentration moved up his legs. What he _totally_ naked? He wiggled his hips slightly and sighed in relief when he felt the snag of material against concrete.

"Thank God", he whispered. He was still wearing his underwear. Whoever had undressed him hadn't stripped him completely. He realized that in the grand scheme of things, wearing underwear didn't really make any difference whatsoever. His boxers certainly weren't going to keep him warm, and he was pretty sure modesty wasn't really an issue – but for some strange reason, he felt better able to cope knowing he was at least partially covered. Complete nudity was just too damned vulnerable.

After a deep breath he completed his evaluation, only to realize that boxers were the only thing his kidnapper had left him, that, and the chains.

Alright – chains. He began to pull with one arm to see if there was any possibility of pulling it out of the wall or floor or wherever it was tethered. He pulled and tugged and twisted, and the only thing that happened was that his wrist started to bleed.

"Oh hell!" Panic setting in once more, he began to pull on both arms and a few seconds later added his legs. The more he pulled and twisted the more he damaged himself, without loosening the manacles or chains in the slightest.

"_God Damn it_", he shouted. He grew more and more frustrated, and more and more panicked and soon was shouting and screaming as he attempted to pull himself loose. Nothing budged.

Without warning, just as he began to calm down, the door opened and light hit him square in the face. That stopped his movements like nothing else could but caused him to gasp and squeeze his eyes shut. God oh God oh God, he kept panting to himself. Tyson was back. What was he going to do?

"Well Richard, what is this?" Tyson walked over and squatted down. He set something down beside himself, although Rick couldn't tell what it was. The killer laughed when he saw his victim's ripped and torn ankles and wrists, the sweat that covered him and the pale and clammy skin. The terror had begun and he could feel the adrenaline surge. _This_ is what brought him ultimate pleasure. _This_ is what he lived for. "You've hurt yourself", he said, sounding sympathetic. He reached over and grasped Castle's left hand, right below the manacle. He pushed the metal up slightly. "You're bleeding. You shouldn't have done this. _I'm_ the only one who can make you bleed." Without another word he began to bend his captive's hand back – back and back until he made the man groan.

"You're going to be with me for a while Richard, and you're going to have to learn that you can't do things unless I tell you you can. So, unfortunately I'm going to have to teach you a bit of a lesson." With a sudden jerk he bent the wrist back sharply – and the crack and scream sounded almost simultaneously.

Castle wanted to vomit. The pain from his wrist was excruciating. That, and the terror, were affecting his breathing and heart rate and he knew, if he wanted to get through this until Beckett saved him, he'd have to try and save his resources. He'd have to remain as composed as humanly possible. He started to breathe, slowly and carefully, until the pain began to subside a bit and things began to move back into focus.

"Now that we've had that little lesson", Tyson said, sounding more like a benevolent teacher rather than a ruthless serial killer, I think it's time I explained a few things. You're probably wondering why you're here."

"I think I can guess!" Castle spoke softly, his words interrupted by sobbing breaths as he tried to regain his ability to breathe.

"Yes, you always were smarter than you sometimes appear. So, back to what I was going to say; we're going to spend a bit of time together – quite a long time if I can keep you alive. And I'm afraid I'm going to enjoy it much more than I expect you will."

"Go to hell", Castle ground out. He refused to let this man use psychological torture as well.

"Probably, although I honestly don't really care. In fact, I'll probably enjoy it there", Tyson shrugged amiably. "But back to the point. You see, the pleasure I'm going to get from you is going to be magnified by the pain I'm going to inflict on your friends and family." He paused, obviously waiting for a reaction. When none came he chuckled and continued. "I've made sure there's no way anyone will find you Richard, but I'm going to let them go on this journey with us. They'll see your pain but won't be able to stop it. Isn't that exciting?"

Rick tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. He kept trying to tune Tyson out, to not listen to him, but the words still haunted him. God – it was bad enough the people he cared about would suffer over his death, but for them to have to know what was happening to him _while_ it was happening – that would kill them. He just prayed that they'd keep the information away from Alexis. He would like it if Kate didn't know either, but he knew that would never happen.

"You're so quiet", the killer laughed. "Not interested in how this is going to proceed?"

"Does it matter?" Castle asked softly, refusing to look at his captor. He had to stay focused, stay strong, and believe that Kate could defeat this bastard and find him.

Tyson reached over and picked something up and then stood. "So, let's begin. Please believe me when I say that I am going to enjoy this."

Rick took a deep breath and closed his eyes – but then immediately opened them. No, _not_ knowing was probably going to be even more frightening. He turned his head and looked at Tyson, squinting to see what the man was holding.

A belt – it was nothing more than a leather belt. He breathed a sigh of relief. That couldn't be too bad. He tensed when Tyson drew his arm back, a pleased grin on his face. It was only as he brought his arm down, quickly and with force, that Rick realized he was going to be hit with the buckle end. Crap.

"There, all done." Jerry stretched, transferring the now bloody belt to his left hand and shaking out his right. "That was tiring. Now, just wait here and I'll be right back." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door open and the light on.

Castle was barely conscious, although enough so that he still felt the excruciating pain. At some point he was sure he'd lost consciousness for a moment, but Tyson had quickly brought him around. If the damp and smell were anything to go by, he'd also lost control of his very full bladder. He could feel himself go red at the humiliating thought, but then decided that it didn't really matter. He wasn't going to give Tyson the satisfaction of knowing how utterly humiliated and embarrassed he was feeling.

He had no idea how long the torture session had lasted; after the first few moments it had seemed to go on forever. He'd tried to remain quiet, to be tough and stoic, but after the first five or six strikes he couldn't help the gasps and then the groans that had escaped. He knew he'd sworn at the bastard a few times and, although he couldn't quite be sure, but he figured he'd let out a scream or two as well.

Tyson was coming back, for what reason he didn't know, but he prayed it wasn't to inflict more pain. He had reached his limit for now. He let out a strangled sound, half laugh, half tears. In fact he had reached his limit for pain for years – years and years – even though he was pretty sure he had lots more pain to look forward to.

Back to his personal inventory. He hurt, badly, but he was pretty sure there was no permanent or life-threatening damage, not yet at least. He forced himself to lift his head and stared down at his torso. Okay, that didn't look good! His entire chest and stomach were covered in bruises, welts and actual rips in the skin. He was bleeding, although again not _too_ badly – there certainly was no danger he'd bleed to death. A few hours from now, once the bruises had a chance to come out, he'd look even worse. He sighed and dropped his head back down to stare at the ceiling. He was pretty sure he now had an idea of what hell was like.

He actually fell asleep – traumatized by the physical and emotional toils of the day. It wasn't a particularly restful sleep of course, but at least it gave him a bit of a break. He came awake slowly, his wrist and chest screaming at him. He had no idea how long he'd been out, whether it had been minutes or hours. There was no natural lighting in the room he was in so it was impossible to say even what time of day it was.

He glanced around at that, realizing that he hadn't even scoped out the room he was in. His vision was somewhat limited by the restriction in his movements, but from what he _could_ see – there really wasn't anything _to_ see. He was lying on rough concrete – probably an old building by the broken and ragged look of the floor. The walls were also concrete, and by the lack of paint or any attempt at finishing, he decided he must be in some kind of basement. There was the one light hanging from the ceiling, a heavy wood door and then – nothing. It wasn't a big room, maybe only about fifteen by twenty feet and again, that told him nothing.

Not that the knowledge does him any good other than to satisfy his curiosity. It wasn't as if he could give anyone any clues. He sighed and lifted his head once more to take a look at his chest. "Yup", he muttered, allowing his head to fall back. "It's worse." In fact, his chest was a veritable rainbow of color. Blood had dried on his chest although some of the cuts were still oozing. It was actually the mottled colors that looked the most horrific. Based on how bad it looked he wondered briefly if he'd suffered any internal damage. He didn't _think_ so, but he guessed time would tell.

He continued to lie there, trying to distract himself by detailing, in his head, all his various bumps, bruises, etc. he'd collected. Of course that led, eventually, to the realization that his bladder was full. Crap and double crap! Now that he was aware of it, he realized he was going to soon be _very_ uncomfortable and there was little he was going to be able to do about it – unless Tyson brought him something.

Speaking of the devil … a few seconds later he sauntered into the room, looking very pleased with himself. He had something in his hands and it didn't take Castle long to figure out that it was a camera. Shit!

"How ya doing Richard? You're looking a bit – bruised."

Castle didn't respond and again refused to look at the man who was torturing him. He heard a laugh and then felt a sharp pain in his side.

"_Look_ at me when I talk to you", the other man hissed, drawing back his foot for another kick. "Unless of course you want me to teach you another lesson?"

That caused Castle to briefly close his eyes, take a breath and turn his face towards the bastard. He didn't say anything, simply stared at him.

"That's better. Now, I'm going to take a picture of you and send it to your loved ones, so you want to look right into the camera and say cheese!" He lifted the small digital camera, his teeth gnawing at his lip. " – want to get this _just_ right", he muttered. A moment later there was a click, followed by three more. Tyson then moved closer and took a few more from a different angle. "There, that should do it. You want to see them?" He turned the camera around and showed the bound man the small screen.

Castle refused to look, focusing his eyes just past the camera so Tyson wouldn't know. He had already taken a look at the damage his captor had inflicted, he didn't need to see anymore. It would be too – demoralizing.

"I'm gonna have to leave you for a while." Tyson said sadly, as he squatted down on his haunches, the camera in his hand. "Now, I might be gone for quite a while, and I don't want you to get thirsty, so I'm going to leave you this." He reached behind himself and pulled out a small bottle of water. "I'll just leave it right here." He placed it beside Rick's hand and then stood. "Have a nice day – or couple of days Castle. I'll be back." With that he left the room, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him.

Castle tried to take a deep breath but instead it sounded like a sob. He was in deep trouble and, for the first time, really faced the fact that he was probably going to die in this room. His hand moved, within the limit allowed by the chain, and touched the cool bottle of water. He laughed bitterly. There was no way he could even open the damn thing and even if he could, he couldn't lift it to his mouth. He was going to lie here, who knows for how long, slowly dying of thirst with a bottle of water taunting him. Yup, Tyson was a master at torture.

* * *

"Have you told Martha or Alexis?" Lanie asked softly.

"No – not until we know something", Kate said. It was late, almost midnight, and they hadn't heard anything beyond the message from Tyson. They'd tried tracking Castle's phone, with no luck – it had clearly been turned off. They had also sent people out to see if anyone had seen anything. They'd discovered, from the doorman at their place that Rick had left shortly after 10:00 am to go grab a coffee. He hadn't made it to the coffee shop so they at least knew the time frame in which he'd disappeared. Beyond that there was nothing.

"God Lanie, what if" –

"Don't you dare Kate", he friend scolded. "He's still alive and you're going to find him. Tyson's not going to kill him right now and you're smart, you'll find him and we're all gonna help you. You just stay strong."

"Tyson's smart too", she argued.

"Yes, so you won't underestimate him. But you've defeated him in the past and you're going to do it again, and this time you're going to get the bastard and make sure he doesn't hurt anyone, ever again."

Kate slowly nodded, appreciating what Lanie was trying to do. But the cold knot of fear remained in her stomach. They knew what Tyson was capable of and somehow, even if Rick _was_ still alive, she was pretty sure he was suffering.

They worked through the night, trying to look into everything, past and present that could give them the slightest clue. Even Captain Gates stayed, refusing to leave until they had _something_, anything. Considering her past relationship with Castle, Kate couldn't help but be grateful.

When, by morning, there was nothing more the Captain sent everyone home to rest. "We're not going to accomplish anything if we're all too exhausted to even think. That means you too Kate. No one's giving up and I have other officers looking into things. I've also informed the FBI and they're sending someone over this morning. For now go, sleep and come back when you can think clearly.

Kate slowly opened the door to the loft, knowing that Gates was right, but still feeling guilty that she was here, was home and Richard was still missing. When she walked into the loft it was to be met by Martha, who was sitting at the counter drinking a cup of coffee.

"Kate! You looked tired dear. Long night at work? I haven't seen Richard yet this morning. He's probably still asleep. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

"Martha", Kate said softly, just looking at her mother-in-law.

"What is it Kate? Do you -" Martha's voice faded out when she got a good look at Kate's expression. She frowned in confusion and then her face changed – blanching – and she suddenly looked every bit her age. "Oh God – not – Richard?"

"He's missing Martha. He's been – kidnapped."

"Kidnapped? But why? How? _Who_?"

"We think – we think it was – Jerry Tyson", she said, knowing she had to tell the woman the truth, but hating knowing how much pain this would bring.

"Tyson? Who -" Martha gasped suddenly, her hand over her mouth. "Oh God – no. Not, - the _serial killer_?"

"I'm afraid so", she said gently, walking over to the older woman and putting her arm around her.

"No – no. He can't – Kate, is he _dead_?"

"No Martha – he's alive", she said with all of the confidence she could muster. "We know that Tyson wants to keep him alive and – and we're just waiting to hear from him."

"But – what does he want with him? I don't understand."

Kate took a deep breath. "We think he blames Rick for something and this is his way of getting revenge. We're doing all we can and the FBI is getting involved. We'll find him Martha, I promise."

"But will you find him alive?" the woman whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. "Oh God – Alexis!'

"I think it's better that we not say anything, at least not now. There's nothing she can do and since she's away –" Kate stopped.

"She'll never forgive us if we do that. We have to – I can call her, get her to come home."

"Why don't you wait until at least later today? If we haven't heard anything by then you can call. We _will_ find him Martha – and we'll find him alive!"

She tried to sleep, tried to tell herself that it was important that she rested, that she came at this with a fresh perspective, but it was impossible. She could _smell_ him in their bed, she was surrounded by his presence, and she missed him with an ache that was all-consuming. She felt like she was at the edge of a precipice, that at any moment she would fall and that would be the end of all that was good and right in her world.

They'd only been married for just over three weeks! God, why was this happening now? Why? She sobbed into her pillow, the exhaustion, the fear all combining to hit her with both barrels.

It was almost two hours later that she stumbled out into the living room. She'd showered and changed and felt a bit fresher. She also came out determined - determined not to let the son of a bitch destroy the best thing in her life. She was going to find her husband and kill Tyson.

She checked her phone, but there were no calls. She then went to her email, just to make sure. She gasped when she saw there was an email from Rick. God, she should have been checking this sooner.

She opened it but there was no message. There was, though, an attachment. She opened it and a picture was displayed on the screen.

"_God_!" she gasped and would have fallen to the floor if it hadn't been for the couch in her way. As it was, she sat down heavily on it. "No, oh no Rick. What did he do to you?"

"What is it Kate?" Martha – a pale and frightened looking Martha – appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "What did you get?"

"No – no Martha." Kate put the phone down. "It's nothing."

"It is _not_ nothing Kate. I'm his _mother_ for God's sake. Don't you dare try to hide things from me. Now, _what is it_?"

"A picture", she answered softly. "It's a picture of Rick."

"Alive?" Martha sounded calm, but Kate could hear the terror underlying the question.

"Yes, but – hurt. He's been hurt. Tyson is toying with us –showing us what he's doing to him. I need to get to the station Martha. There may be something we can use."

"Show it to me."

"It's better that you don't see it", Kate said gently. "It's only going to make you -"

"I'll worry more if I _don't_ see it", she interrupted. "Now show me."

Kate nodded and held out her phone. Martha took it and looked down at the picture of a horribly bruised and wounded Castle, spread eagled and chained to the floor. His eyes were open – he was looking at the camera – and was clearly alive. He looked so completely – defenseless, thought his mother, that she wanted to cry. She took a shaky breath, refusing to let herself break down. "Promise me that when you catch the man that did this, you will kill him", said the usually kind-hearted woman. "I want him to pay for what he's doing."

"Me too Martha", Kate nodded and took back her phone. "I've got to go but – be careful and be strong."

"You too dear. And thank you." She walked over and gave the younger woman a hug. The two of them stood there, just for a moment, gaining strength from one another.

As Kate walked to her car she promised herself that she would not only get her husband back – alive – she was going to make Tyson suffer. No one messed with the people Kate Beckett loved – and got away with it.


	3. Thirst

_**More whump ahead. And reviews would be nice - not sure if people want me to continue if they don't review. And thank you to those lovely folks who have/do take the time to review. It means a lot to us fic writers!**_

He'd lost track of time or how long it had been since Tyson left. All he was sure of was that he was going to die, chained to a cement floor.

He'd gone way too long without water and his body was starting to shut down. His tongue was swollen – so swollen he couldn't even close his mouth. His heart felt like it was beating erratically, although he wasn't quite sure if that was his imagination or reality. If real, he suspected it was a very bad thing. He wondered briefly if he would feel it begin to slow and eventually stop. Would he know the moment he died?

He tried thinking of Kate, of Alexis, of the good things in his life so that he could take that with him as he lay dying, but instead his mind kept flipping to the bottle of water sitting beside him. Just one drink, that's all he wanted, one drink. Please! Anyone? He tried to call out although his voice had long since dried up due, not only due to lack of water but to fear and hopelessness. He wanted to cry and then felt like laughing hysterically. Cry? He didn't have any tears left in him to cry. They'd all dried up.

"Well look at you!"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and for an instant Rick was sure he was hallucinating, an hallucination borne out of despair.

"I bet you're thirsty."

He saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye and suddenly there was a body next to him. He tried to turn his head, to look at who or what was there, but he was too weak. His eyes drifted close.

"Now don't go to sleep on me Richard", the voice said. "Not before we've had a chance to chat. Hmm, you're not looking too good."

A hand touched his forehead – It was Tyson. He remembered, although he wished he hadn't. And then he hated himself for even though he knew the owner of that hand was bad, he couldn't help but relish the touch of another person. He had thought he would die without ever hearing or seeing or feeling the touch of another person.

"You have a fever", the voice said, almost sounding like he cared. "Damn, I should have been back sooner. Wouldn't want to lose you too quickly and cut short our time together. Now, just give me a few minutes and we'll get you all fixed up."

There were more noises, but Rick's grasp on reality was tenuous at best and he had no idea what was happening. He wasn't even quite sure that this was real. The only thing that was certain in his life was that he wanted a drink.

"There. This may hurt a bit Richard, but it's for your own good. I had dear Dr. Kelly show me how to do this."

Rick felt something touch his arm and then there was a brief moment of coolness on his wrist followed by a sharp prick. He had no idea what it was but at that moment didn't really care. There were some more noises and then it felt like tape was being placed on his wrist.

"There – that should help", Tyson looked at the IV set-up and wondered if he'd left it too long. He didn't care if Castle died – in fact, he planned for that – but he wanted to have some more time with the writer first. He had some interesting plans and if the man died now it would screw them up.

He'd left him here for almost three days, although he'd planned to be back sooner. The blond jogger he'd seen in the park had held him up, so it wasn't his fault. He hadn't been able to resist her and had spent a couple of interesting days amusing himself. He wondered fleetingly if it mattered if they discovered her body before he was done with Castle, but then shrugged. Probably not and if they did – well, it was nowhere near where he had hidden the writer so he should be okay.

He stared down at the man he'd come to hate and debated whether or not to give him a drink. He was getting fluids through the IV, but it would probably be a good idea – if he wanted to keep him alive for a while longer – to also give him something orally. He reached over to the bottle he'd left, amused to see it had been knocked over – and picked it up. With a quick twist he'd removed the cap.

"Okay Richard – time for a drink." He placed his hand under his victim's head and lifted it off the floor. "Here." He dribbled a little water into his mouth, knowing that he had to go slowly so as not to cause the other man to choke or get sick.

"Like that, do you?" He laughed as the writer drank the drops, trying to lift his head to get even more. "Your tongue got all fat, did you know that?" He dropped Rick's head suddenly, and simply pored water over his face. He laughed again as Castle tried to lick at the water as it dribbled down his face.

As much fun as this was, he knew that the other man did need to rehydrate. With a sigh, which was filled with timbres of disappointment, he stood and walked out of the room to get more water. A few minutes later he'd returned and he began to slowly give the prone man some liquid.

* * *

By the time Kate returned to the precinct her teammates were already there. She looked at them as she walked in, both hard at work trying to uncover any clue that would lead to finding Rick. She stopped for a moment to try and gain control of her emotions. She couldn't express how much their support and loyalty meant, and wasn't even going to try – at least not now. She needed to stay focused and concentrate on this as if it was any other case. If she allowed herself to get upset, she'd be no use to anyone, especially not to Castle.

"How are you Kate?" Of course it was Ryan who approached her first, his worry written across his face.

She shrugged but tried to give him a small smile to let him know she appreciated his concern. Fortunately Kevin understood and didn't pursue it. "Is Captain Gates here?" she asked.

"Yeah, she's talking to the Feds. She said they'll want to see all of us in a few minutes."

She nodded, knowing that it was a good thing the FBI was here, but at the same time hating it. She and her team needed to be the ones to find him. Rick was one of theirs and they owed it to him. Still, she knew the best thing was to cooperate with them and use their expertise and equipment.

"I got an email", she told Ryan and Javi, who had also approached and gave her a nod to let her know he was there for her too. "I've given my phone to IT so they can see if they can track where it came from, but I asked them to download the pictures so we could take a look. I have to go tell Gates."

"Sir?" she knocked on the Captain's door. "I have something from Tyson – pictures. They're putting them on the monitor in the conference room. I thought we should look in case there are some clues."

Gates looked up at her Detective and her face – for once – softened. "I'll be right there Kate. I'm just finishing with these gentlemen from the FBI. They'll want to talk to you afterward as well, but first we'll look at the pictures."

A few minutes later all of them were waiting as the monitor was set up. Just then Lanie arrived, having offered to help look at the pictures.

"You okay Kate?" she asked her friend.

"No, but that doesn't matter right now. Once we find him and I know he's okay, then _I'll_ be okay."

Lanie nodded. "We'll get him back Kate, don't worry."

Beckett didn't answer, appreciating her friends' encouraging words, but knowing they were nothing more than that. None of them knew if they could get him back, although they wouldn't stop trying until it was over.

"So, what are the pictures?" Javi asked. So far Kate hadn't said what it was, although from her looks this morning, it wasn't anything good and he wanted everyone to be prepared.

"Tyson is obviously trying to get to us", she said, "by showing us what he's doing to Castle. The pictures are – hard to look at."

"Oh girl!" Lanie came up and put her arms around Kate, giving her a hug.

Kate allowed it for a second, needing and relishing the contact, but after a moment she pulled away. Again, she couldn't let herself lose it – not now, not yet.

"Okay Ma'am, all set." The young tech told them and turned on the monitor on the wall. "Just hit enter on the computer when you want to start."

"Thank you", Kate smiled at him and waited until he was gone. She didn't want to show these to any more people than she had to. For some reason they felt like a terrible invasion of Rick's privacy.

"Okay", she turned to those in the room, which included her teammates, Lanie, Gates and the two men from the FBI, Agents Delaney and Toomi. "Rick's been hurt – Tyson obviously did it and is sending a message. I've seen them a few times, but it was hard to see any details on my phone. So watch carefully for anything – anything at all that could help us find him."

They all watched in silence as the pictures displayed. Kate flipped through the few of them and then stopped on the clearest one. She closed her eyes. She thought she'd been prepared to see them again but they were much worse on a bigger screen. She could see all the cuts and bruises all over his torso and the swollen and misshapen wrist. What was by far the worst, however, was the look of fear and hopelessness in his eyes. He believed he was probably going to die, although she could also see the small spark of hope – hope that she'd find him and rescue him.

"Dr. Parish, what can you tell us about his wounds?" The Captain's voice was a little less steady than normal, but not by much. It was at these times that Kate was grateful for the woman's strength.

"Well", Lanie stood and walked to the screen. Her voice, unlike the Captain's was soft and thready. She was clearly trying hard not to cry. She was not used to dealing with the living, and was finding it harder than she'd thought. "Based on the direction of the wounds, and the pattern of bruising, he was hit repeatedly with something. I think it was probably some kind of whip – no", she stepped closer. "The width of some of the bruises suggests that it was more like a piece of strong material - like a belt. And here", she pointed to some of the cuts and gouges, "Something cut him here. If it was a belt I'd be pretty sure these were made by a buckle. I've seen these kind of wounds before in domestic abuse and murder cases."

"Is it bad?" Javi asked, wanting to wince but also not wanting to appear too upset, for Kate's sake.

"Well, it had to have been painful", Lanie looked at Kate apologetically, "but I don't think it's too serious. It's certainly not life threatening. Depending on how hard Tyson hit there may or may not be some internal bleeding, although there's nothing in this picture that indicates that. There's also his wrist", she pointed to that. "It's clearly broken, although I can't tell how that happened."

"He did it", Kate said softly, certainly. "Tyson. He broke it deliberately." She swallowed. "Is there anything here that gives us an idea of where this was taken?"

The detectives spent the next half hour looking at every square inch of the pictures, but other than the fact that he was lying on concrete, they found nothing. Each picture was pretty much the same and all were equally horrific. Kate could feel the despair begin to creep up on her and ruthlessly squashed it down. She didn't have time for it right now.

* * *

The next time Rick woke up he was feeling a slight bit better; not great – but at least not like he was about to die of dehydration. He still felt thirsty, but not in the agonizing, desperate way he'd been before. Now he just could have used a nice cold glass of water.

"Awake finally", Tyson's voice brought him back to his present – painful - reality. "Here you need to drink some more."

A bottle of water miraculously appeared at his mouth. Hating the fact that he had to rely on Tyson he knew he had little choice so he opened his mouth and began to drink.

After two full bottles of water he laid his head back and sighed. God – he would never take water or any drink for granted again.

Of course there was a problem and that was what goes in must come out. He'd had no choice but to go when he was left alone, although after a day he'd already been so dehydrated there was nothing left in his bladder. Still, it had been humiliating and now that he was more conscious, and with Tyson here, the last thing he wanted to do was wet his boxers - again. Still, he was starting to get a tad uncomfortable and knew there was little he could do while still chained up. He debated saying anything to Tyson, but then decided that the man would simply get enjoyment out of his discomfort. He tried to think of something else.

"So, feeling better?"

Rick didn't look at him

"Now, I hate to leave you Rick, but I have things to do and places to go. Since I don't want you to die, quite yet, I'm going to leave you some water. I'm afraid I can't leave any food, but you've been looking a bit paunchy, so you should do just fine."

Rick closed his eyes in despair. Tyson was going to leave him again, with water but with no way to drink it. Why hadn't he just let him die? Why make him go through this again? He didn't even think about not getting food. Although hungry he knew he'd die of thirst long before he died of hunger.

The next thing he knew, Tyson was fiddling with the manacle on his broken wrist. Abruptly it loosened and fell off. The serial killer didn't say anything; he simply got up and left the room, leaving Castle to wonder what the hell was going on.

Jerry returned a few minutes later, carrying a case of 12 water bottles. He opened it up and then left it right next to Rick's free hand. "Here you go. You can drink all you want, although you may want to space it out since I pan to be gone for a few days."

Tyson grinned and again got down on his haunches. "You comfortable Richard?" He reached into his pants pocket and drew out a Swiss army knife. "I didn't want to leave you without a way to remember me when I'm gone." He opened the knife and looked at it for a moment then, with a smirk, he leaned over and placed it directly under Castle's left eye. "You don't really need _two_ eyes, do you? Do you think Kate will still love you if you're blind?"

Rick tried to swallow but the fear had dried his mouth so it felt like it had after days without water. He couldn't help but stare at the sharp point of the knife as it hovered around his eyeball. He finally breathed a sigh of relief when the knife was lowered.

"Or maybe there's something else you'd rather lose? Let's see, what else do you have two of? How about down here?"

The next thing Rick knew, the knife was in his boxers, separating the fly and – oh God, _poking_ him. It hurt, but not badly – just enough to give him a clear message that Tyson could do anything he wanted with him.

"You want me to do a bit of surgery?" Tyson laughed. He pulled out the knife suddenly and jabbed it in Castle's thigh. He twisted it a few times before finally pulling it out.

Rick groaned and had to bite his lip to keep from yelling. The sadistic _bastard_! Again, he didn't think the wound was life threatening but it was painful and if left could get infected.

"I bet you're lying there thinking that the NYPD and your sycophants are getting close, that they'll soon find you. I'm afraid that's not going to happen. Detective Beckett has absolutely no idea where you are. You see, I was careful not to leave any clues; I'm very good at that. The delicious thing is, she's seen me a number of time. She walked right past me on her way to the office this morning and she even said hello. It was so much fun."

Was the bastard following Kate? God, please let him leave her alone. As much as he was terrified by what was being done to him, the thought of something happening to Kate was even worse.

"And she doesn't know that she lives practically over top of you", the killer continued. "You see, we're just about right underneath your loft." He laughed. "sI bet you didn't know there were all these interesting hideouts right beside your place." Tyson stood up and stretched, looking happy and relaxed. "Well, I'm afraid that's all for now. I'm gonna have to get going, but first one more thing -" he reached in his pocket and took out the camera. "I should have taken a picture when I found you. That would have been a good one!"

Just before Tyson snapped the photo, Rick had a crazy thought. Curling his hand – the one with the broken wrist, he tried to send a message. The problem was, Alexis might be the only one to get it and he suspected they weren't showing her the pictures. It didn't matter though – he still had to try.

"There all done." Tyson dropped the camera in his pocket. "See you soon Rick. Be good and don't get into any trouble."

With that he was gone – again leaving Rick in the cold and dark. He sighed, fear and despair taking hold. There was no way Kate was going to find him. His only hope was that someone would see his message, and they're be a chance to add to it the next time Tyson took his picture.


End file.
